


Silent Knight

by doliumpraedonum



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Canon Continuation, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Fantasy, Humor, I Had To, M/M, Not a Scalie fic, Second Citadel (Penumbra Podcast), Sorry Not Sorry, Transformation, body horror esque, second citadel, sort of, you'll find out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2018-11-21 08:40:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11353872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doliumpraedonum/pseuds/doliumpraedonum
Summary: Picking up right as the second episode of Knight of the Crown, Lord of the Swamp ends, and how it should continue.Lord Arum pulls even more tricks, and his past is revealed to lead to a brighter future.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know. I have so many other things I should be writing right now but I had to get this off my chest. The ending made my heart hurt! Because I am trash. Give me a few weeks, it'll be over soon.

They ran through the forest for hours together, but they failed in finding Rilla or Lord Arum. When the light of dawn broke, even Sir Angelo’s spirits were beginning to slip.

“Perhaps...perhaps if we split up?” He suggested.

Sir Damien fought the exhaustion that was threatening to replace his fury and adrenaline. He nodded to his fondest rival, “You take the East and I will take the West. If we do not meet by high noon..return to the queen. She will need you more than I.”

“But Sir Damien~!”

“No,” He interrupted, and forced a small smile. “Besides, we cannot _both_ receive Rilla’s favor when she is rescued.”

Sir Angelo’s concern broke into a grin, easily fooled by Damien’s false bravado. “Ah-ha! Worry not, my dearest rival, I will not steal your bride to be. Should I find her, you shall still be the one to slay her captor! Here, have some of my steel. To the monster!” 

As he spoke, he dropped a sword belt into Sir Damien’s outstretched hand. With his last cry, Sir Angelo playfully pivoted on one boot and sprinted to the East of the forest. The moment his back turned, Damien let his smile fade and be replaced with a grim determination. He attached the belt, and headed back to the spot where he last was meant to meet his beast. He ran through the woods to the place once strange to him; now forever burned into his memory.

The clearing was lit with the bright moon, illuminating the ancient, crooked tree.  It was utterly empty; still but for the willow leaves dancing in the gentle breeze; quiet save the whisper of the nearby brook. The calm, steady presence of such an old tree did nothing to ease his turmoil. The monster was nowhere in sight, so he dashed inside the veil of the willow, hoping that perhaps Lord Arum would be behind it. He knew it was desperate, foolish, but he couldn’t stop the sinking of his heart when we remained alone.

“How could I be so FOOLISH!”

With a cry, he drew the sword that Sir Angelo had left him and swung it at the tree. He continued his bellows of rage as his calm left him completely, and he barraged the elder tree with blows in all the ways he wished punishment upon himself. He thought of all the ways he betrayed his own heart, his Citadel, and his Rilla. He struck, and struck, and struck.

“Careful, little honeysuckle. You might hurt yourself.”

At that, Sir Damien froze. With all his speed, he dropped the sword to draw his bow and loosed an arrow at the spot he heard the smug voice that twisted like a knife in his heart.

The first arrow was close. Close enough to force the lizard to leap out of the way and continue dodging as Sir Damien followed, focusing hard but struggling to do so. His mind was clouded with hurt, betrayal, and Rilla.

Lord Arum gave a taunting laugh as he easily evaded each arrow. 

“Ha-ha! I see you have finally noticed what I have taken.” 

“Where is she!” Damien roared, shooting again and again, frustration mounting with each miss.

 “Oh, poor thing,” The beast mocked. “The brave knight could not find his _Rilla_!”

Sir Damien reached to his quiver for another arrow, but his hand grasped air. He cursed his foolishness under his breath, quickly dropping the quiver from his shoulders in the hope for one last chance. 

There was none.

 When he looked up again to track the beast, although only a moment had passed, it was gone. The snide chuckle echoed from all around him, mocking and confusing Damien. 

“Show yourself!” He demanded.

 The laughter only grew in response. Damien turned to locate Sir Angelo’s sword, finding he had come far from it in his pursuit of Lord Arum. He lunged for it, but Damien was knocked away as the lizard intercepted him.

Damien grunted as they rolled, wrestling with the beast as well as he could, but he had not the strength of Sir Angelo. Lord Arum easily got the best of him, pinning him beneath his claws just as he had the day before. Damien was held with two hands at his shoulders, and two holding his wrists. The rest of the lizard’s body was pressing against his legs, preventing any ability to kick or buck.

Their breath came out ragged against each other, as beautiful, violet eyes staring mercilessly into pained brown ones.

 When his breathing began to slow, he closed his eyes and whispered. “I have failed… I have not the will to kill you, and Lord Damien has rightfully forsaken me. For my weakness, I have betrayed my queen… I have caused the suffering of an innocent.”

Damien finally opened his eyes again, shocked to see that glimmer of humanity in Lord Arum once more. His expression was so..pained. Pain for the suffering of the man in his grasp. Damien felt his gut twist with confusion and his heart swell with curiosity, with his deep desire to _know_. 

“Your eyes! How could such gentle eyes commit such a horrible crime!”

“Enough!” Snarled Lord Arum, tongue flicking out from behind short, sharp teeth. “Speak your final words. I know you have them, you professional prattler.”

Sir Damien took in a deep breath, reaching for tranquility. “I have not final words..but a final question for you, Lord Arum.”

The monster blinked, his grip on Damien’s shoulders easing. His voice took on the soft quality it had when he was perplexed. “Um...what is it?”

“I want to know- no, I _need_ to know, what is this I see inside you? From where do these human qualities come?”

Lord Arum’s tail thumped angrily against the ground, though his eyes betrayed his conflict. “I, I don’t know what you’re playing at, you pathetic, overly emotional little-”

“Lord Arum, I cannot let this be for not! I cannot let Rilla’s suffering be for nothing!” Sir Damien’s voice was firm when he began, but cracked when he spoke her name.

The anger was so fierce on Lord Arum’s face that Damien’s heart jumped with fear. The lizard brought his legs to either side of Sir Damien, standing roughly and pulling Damien high into the air. He spoke in an angry hiss, still so close to Damien’s face.

“How is it that you can be so preoccupied with the suffering of another?” He hissed. “Your life is about to end and all you can think to do is ask over me and worry for your precious _Rilla_ ! How can you be so selfless, so _foolish_ you...you noble dolt!”

Sir Damien blinked in confusion, for it sounded almost as though the monster was jealous. “Rilla is an innocent, and you took her life! How could I think of anything else! I must at least know you, who has fooled my heart and defeated me!”

“Bah!” Lord Arum shook Sir Damien in his grasp, “How can you speak of her, and I, and your heart in the same breath!”

“What is it you are hiding from a man who is as good as dead?” Sir Damien demanded, becoming angry himself. “Are you so monstrous that you cannot meet a man’s last request?”

“For the last time I _AM_ A MONSTER!” Lord Arum shouted in exasperation before huffing and taking a breath. “Must you know? Are you really so insistent to learn my secrets?”

“I am,” He answered, resolute.

“Fine!” Lord Arum tossed Sir Damien aside, away from the sword at the base of the willow. He landed with another ‘oomf’ as he rolled across the grass and dirt, but the knight wasn’t injured by the throw. 

Sir Damien pushed himself up into a sitting position, but found himself too confused to do much else. He had expected a dramatic reveal (of what content he wasn't sure, but it would have certainly been dramatic), followed by his untimely death. He stared at the back of the scaly head, turned away from him now, wondering what on earth had just changed his fate.

There was a pregnant pause, the same kind that lingered just before Lord Arum spared him the first time, by asking him to bare his arm.

“Lord Arum?” Sir Damien prompted, his mouth dry and heart racing.

The monster spoke softly over his shoulder. “Go back to the Queen’s tower. In her chambers, you will find a small box of red mahogany, filled with trinkets. Within there will be a blue stone the size of one clenched fist. Bring it to me...and I will share with you the knowledge you desire.”

Sir Damien blinked. Then he blinked again. He opened his mouth to speak, frowned, and closed his mouth again. 

“I beg pardon, Lord Arum….are you asking a knight of the Second Citadel to steal from his queen?”

“Is it stealing if you are returning a stolen belonging to it’s original owner?” Arum inquired, his tone genial.

Unfortunately, at the same moment, he was thinking of all the foolish things he knew he would do for love. It would be a lie to say this was not dangerously tempting his curiosity.

“Is this what you were after in the Queen’s tower when..when we met?” He inquired. 

“It is not. But...to tell you, I will need it back.”

Sir Damien couldn’t quell his unrest, “How...how am I to believe this is not yet another trick?”

Lord Arum’s voice became even more gentle. “Do you trust me, little honeysuckle?”

“Trust you!” Sir Damien burst, leaping to his feet, “You have tricked me from the start! You manipulated my heart and you stole my Rilla!" 

Finally, Lord Arum turned to face him. There was fury in his eyes and with all his speed, he was suddenly directly before the knight, tongue flicking out angrily as he roared. “Your dear _Rilla_ is all you can think of! I have stolen nothing, you fool! Not a thing! She is fine, I have not _touched_ her.”

The monster turned up it’s chin, blowing hot air through his nose and covering his emotion with a false indignance that didn’t quite have Sir Damien fooled. “You couldn’t pay me to, the scrawny creature."

Sir Damien swallowed thickly, his mind racing to keep up with all that was unfolding. “Rilla is...safe, you say?”

Lord Arum looked to the sky, squinting at the light. “She should be traveling along the Southern Road to the Citadel. She may be confused, but, unharmed.”

Before Damien could express any of the million questions this arose, the lizard beast took a brisk step away from him. “Go to her; see for yourself that I do not lie. If you are satisfied, then meet me here again in three days. Do not return without the stone.”

Then, he was gone. Disappeared out of the willow tree’s curtain and enveloped in the forest.

“Lords above…” Sir Damien breathed, before dashing toward the Southern Road. To Rilla. He knew that if she was safe, he would be unable to deny his curiosity. This beast was changing him, but he could not stop. In his heart, he knew the knowledge was too great a call. 

If Rilla was alive and unharmed, he must speak his heart to her.


	2. Chapter 2

Rilla was unflappable, by nature. Her emotions were deep, yet steady, as she preferred logic to feeling. She was possibly the most reasonable, prepared person in all of the Second Citadel, second only to the Queen’s personal assistant. Rilla rarely found herself lacking a tool or plan where one was needed, and her endless patience and warmth made her an excellent liaison between knights and...pretty much everyone else.

She was quite used to theatrics (one knew what they were getting into when being courted by a knight), but sometimes these things go beyond any level of composure or determination to keep aforementioned composure.

As Sir Damien broke through the tree line of the forest at a dead sprint looking like a madman, the startled scream that erupted from peaceful, unflappable Rilla caused him to halt in his tracks, panting heavily.

“Damien! What’s wrong?” She called, moving toward him once she shook off her surprise and realized she recognized the knight that had burst through the woods like a griffin that had lit it’s own tail on fire.

Damien didn’t answer, but he did drop the sword in his hand and finish running to her, enveloping her in a crushing hug. Still startled, it took her a moment to return his embrace, soon tapping desperately at his armor to allow her to breathe again.

Quickly, she looked him over for any cuts or crushed limbs. Her cursory inspection revealed no blood or bruising, but his expression was distraught. Damien’s eyes were watery and pink around the lids, and he was biting his lip as though he was trying to hold back tears.

“Damien, what happened?” She asked, softly.

Apparently, that was the wrong question.

“Oh, Rilla!” He cried, and before she could catch sight of a proper tear, he was embracing her tightly once again.

She patted him as she always did when he was too worked up to speak. She touched him lovingly until he was calm enough to explain.

Damien pulled away gently, keeping her close. He kept running his hands along her arms with the occasional little squeeze, as though he thought she might vanish without his touch.

He took a deep breath, just as she had taught him, and let it out slowly. “A monster’s trick, that’s all. He had me fooled that you were..that he had…”

Sir Damien trailed off, swallowing thickly. “I am..so relieved to see you.”

Rilla’s face became soft, her eyebrows knitting in understanding and sympathy. “Oh, Damien. That must have been horrible.”

He shook his head. “It matters not, my...Rilla. You are safe, and nearly home yet. What, dearest Rilla, happened? Where had you gone?”

Rilla motioned to the parcel she was carrying; Damien recognized it as one of her apothecary bags. “Yesterday I received a note, a special request for a couple vials of dragonsbane antidote, from the next village over. When I arrived at the source of request, no one was home but there was a note on the door. They said my payment was inside and, Damien, look!”

With excitement, Rilla pulled out a piece of brown cloth from her parcel. She unfolded it in her hand as the pit in Damien’s stomach grew. Rilla pulled away the last of the cloth, revealing a small, perfect amethyst. The purple gem glinted tauntingly in the sunlight, reminding him of those glittering, beautiful eyes.

“I have to say, the whole exchange was quite strange. Knowing that a monster was behind it makes a little more sense, but what a generous monster! This is much more than the rate for my antidotes.”

Sir Damien could not resist the tugging at the corners of her lips that Rilla’s excited grin pulled from him. He refolded the cloth that lay on either side of her hand, tucking away the payment and holding her hands in hers. He could not betray her in this way, he knew she deserved the truth.

“Rilla…Rilla I must speak my heart.” He confessed, anxiety mounting. She would think him a monster, and she would never love him. It was what he deserved.

Some of the sparkle left her eyes, and she spoke quickly before he could spill the devious thoughts he had been trapped with.

“Damien, before you do, I think I must speak mine to you.”

He blinked at her, for this was a role reversal he wasn’t expecting. “Rilla, I think that perhaps I should explain somethings before-”

“No,” She stated firmly. “This is..important.”

Damien swallowed again thickly, wanting to spare her but unable to do anything but yield to sweet, sweet Rilla.

“Saint’s above...I always have an ear for you.”

Rilla pressed her lips together in a rare show of nervousness, before she took a breath and looked at him with determination. “Damien, you have been asking over when we will be married.”

Damien’s mouth went dry. He wanted to stop her, still wanted to spare her the embarrassment of being rejected by a man who was really a monster. Saint’s above, he was going to be the first Knight in the Second Citadel to redact a proposal! The shame, the scandal! How could he do this to-

Damien’s racing thoughts were quickly interrupted.

“I haven’t given you an answer yet because, I hadn’t made a certain decision. A really...important, decision. One that I made yesterday on my journey.”

“What...what decision is that?”

Rilla closed her eyes as if the conversation pained her, and Damien squeezed her hands gently with encouragement. He took another deep, slow breath, doing his best to give the woman the tenderness she had always bestowed on him. “Sweet Rilla, I see this troubles you greatly. I...I understand how painful matters of the heart may be. Speak when you have found the words, but not a moment sooner. I will wait.”

He kissed her cheek softly, trying to sooth the wound he hadn’t yet inflicted.

When he pulled away, Rilla was giving him a funny look.

“What is it?”

“I’m just..a little surprised. You’re being very...calm about this.”

Damien gave her a rueful smile. “I may have a little tranquillity left for the matters of your heart, dear Rilla.”

She gave a soft chuckle, “Oh, Damien. I think someday I’ll come to miss that word.”

Damien frowned. “What do you mean?”

“...I have not discussed your proposal with my father. Do you know why?”

He shook his head. “No..I haven’t a clue.”

“He would be thrilled. He would insist he be involved in the planning and the preparation, and that it happen within the season. But...I can’t do that yet.”

Damien’s stomach twisted, feeling heavy in his gut. This was heading in a direction he could not have prepared for, one that couldn’t be more perfect to spare her the pain of rejection, yet one that couldn’t cause him more suffering.

“Why?” He whispered.

“The wife of a knight cannot leave the capital without him -or her, as I heard about Sir Caroline, and you know that for years I have dreamed of the herbs beyond these walls. I haven’t told you...but I have been saving up for a trip.”

“A..trip?” He parroted, feeling lost.

“Yes, Damien. A very long trip. I have been saving enough to hire one of the guides that travels through the Citadel, and they will take me across the mountains, to the ocean, to gather and study the herbs there.”

“Rilla! A trip of that magnitude would take, it would take…” He trailed off, trying to fathom how long it would be.

“I would be gone for six season. And with this,” She lifted the amethyst covered cloth in her hands. “I can now afford it. I have decided..I have to go. This journey is in my heart, Damien. And I have to take a page from your book, and follow my heart.”

Her words caused a prickling in his eyes and he blew out a soft sigh. His mind was racing too fast for him to follow, how wonderful a coincidence and how painful a reality.

“I can’t ask you to wait for me. You are a very...passionate man, and I wouldn’t want that to go to waste.” Her eyes fell to the ground, but she had a small, sad smile. “But fate is funny. And I was thinking...that maybe, if when I return to the village, you still wanted to be married, I would promise to marry you then.”

There was a question in her words, spoken with more uncertainty than he had ever heard from the usually confident herbalist.

“Fate is, indeed a funny thing.” He told her, when he found his words again. “I think that, should destiny lay that path for us, we should walk it. Should it not, my heart bears you no ill will.”

Rilla turned her smile up at him, and he finally noticed the tears building in the corners of her eyes.

“Oh, Rilla,” He sighed, hugging her tightly to the bosom of his armor.

She wrapped her arms around him, squeezing in return.

“I do love you, Damien. If it is meant to be, it will.”

He kissed the top of her head, lingering his lips in the spot and trying to memorize the smell of his long time friend and now former love.

“I love you, too.”

He did love her. He loved her brown hair, and bright brown eyes, her humor and her intelligence. She was so smart, and curious, and warm. He loved the way she made him feel, heart swollen with adoration and the flood of thoughts her kisses brought to his mind.

It hurt.

As he looked at her for what could be the last time, however, Damien somehow knew his pain would ease. And he knew that he could leave, fade out of the Citadel and out of her life, without the suffering his abrupt disappearance would cause. This way would spare her feelings, as she may never know that once upon a time she loved a monster.

He pulled away from her gently, kissed her cheek, and gave her his parting words.

“I am sorry about your hut.”

Rilla blinked, and for the second time that day, her general preparedness failed her.

She laughed, sweet and loud and long, bringing a smile to Damien’s face.

Rilla wiped a tear away as her laughter became manageable. “Oh, Damien. I’m worried about what that means.”

“Sir Angelo will help me fix it for you.” He reassured her.

She shook her head, still smiling. “Alright. Well, let me go assess the damage?”

He nodded to her, and she gave him a final hug before returning to the path.

“You’re a good man, Damien.”

He watched her go, his eyes following her until she was out of sight. With a heavy sigh, he collected the sword he dropped at the forest’s edge, and looked up at the blue, cloudless sky.

“Saints above..what is this the fates have dealt us? Rilla has broken our engagement to follow her heart…leaving me free to follow mine. While it pains me deeply to leave her I already feel..free. I am free of the burden of causing such suffering. Damn these...feelings! I am monstrous for this relief I hold alongside this ache in my chest. I should just retire to these woods, before I cause any more suffering to the citizens I swore to protect. I deserve these woods more than I do that soft cot of my bed. I should-”

Damien’s soliloquy was cut off by an angry cry from somewhere nearby.

“MY HUT!”

Damien flinched. “Perhaps, before I do banish myself, I shall find Sir Angelo.”

\--

Sir Damien made his way through the Citadel, hoping to find Sir Angelo before much daylight was lost; fixing Rilla’s hut would take time, and he hoped to have it finished before nightfall.

When Damien reached the Queen’s tower in the center of the Citadel, he found Sir Angelo outside. The knight was juggling three swords, much to the amazement of the crowd of children around him. Damien came close the cluster of children, standing near their parents, many of whom were merrily partaking in the fermented cherry concoction specially imbibed during the festival. (Sir Damien knew not to distract Sir Angelo when he was doing this particular trick, as they learned their lesson the month spent toiling in the fields of the farmer they had injured last time, while he healed).

Sir Angelo finished with a flourish, catching two swords in one of his hands and bowing when he caught the third. The small crowd cheered and applauded him until he noticed Sir Damien.

“Sir Damien!” He cried, voice pitched high with his excitement. He quickly returned two of the swords he had been juggling to the guards from whom he had borrowed them and rushed to his closest friend. “Did you find Rilla? Did you slay the beast?”

Sir Damien puffed his chest up a bit, knowing he was overdoing it but it always happened; he was a terrible liar. “The beast? The beast!! No, no I didn’t, ahem, I didn’t see the beast. But Rilla is safe now! Her destroyed hut was a clever rouse. She is fine. Probably never see that beast again!”

“Ah ha! Did you curry her favor? Ah, my apologies, perhaps I shouldn’t mention curry.”

Sir Damien’s shoulder’s slumped somewhat, and he tried vigorously to hide the half of him that thanked the Saint’s for what had happened. “Rilla and I...we are no longer. She must follow her heart, and I mine.”

“Your heart! Her heart? Had they not found each other? Why does everyone have these wandering hearts! Whatever do you mean~!”

Sir Damien looked around at the stares that were mounting at Sir Damien’s outbursts that were becoming progressively louder.

“Not here,” He stage whispered (for Sir Angelo the Strong was a bit hard of hearing and harder of head), “It does not matter. Do you have duty tonight?”

Sir Angelo looked unhappy to not have his answers, but nodded. “Guard duty, the Queen's chambers. The next five nights.”

Sir Damien felt a thrill run through him at the news that his friend would be the one guarding the Queen’s chambers, it would be that much easier to get in. Then, it registered that his closest rival had been relegated to menial work.

“Guard duty for the chambers? Have you injured yourself?” Damien asked, looking over his friend, who shuffled his feet in an unknightly way.

“Ah, you see, I...I may have broken the Queen’s war table again.”

Sir Damien grinned at his friend, clapping him on the back. “Worry not, my strong friend. Such things cannot be avoided.”

Sir Angelo returned the smile, perking up a bit. “The Queen disagrees with you, but,” He leaned in to whisper in a decibel that was more akin to a shout, “That is why you are my greatest friend, and not she.”

Damien couldn’t help the warmth that spread in his chest, pulled tight at the thought that he would greatly miss this friendship, when he was banished to the woods with the rest of the monsters.

“Sir Angelo, would you do me the honor in assisting me with the knightly duty of repairing Rilla’s hut?”

“As the greatest knight in all the Second Citadel, I shall!”

Sir Damien held up a finger in protest. “Ah ah, the second greatest knight in all the Second Citadel.”

Sir Angelo’s face lit with delight as he eagerly began their usual banter as they headed out of the city center, toward Rilla’s hut.

Damien tried to quell the guilt he felt at allowing himself such fraternization with friends, knowing in his heart that he was not done betraying the Queen and her citizens, but he promised himself that it would be over soon. He was merely saying goodbye to those he loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a rough week. All my love to y'all though for reading this, I am super flattered by every comment and every kudos. Next chapter should be up by next weekend! We run the risk of a little delay because I have two exams this week, but this fic is pretty much pouring out of me so I don’t think it’ll be a problem. Reviews are love and motivation! Tell me what you like/don’t like.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sir Damien ties up some loose ends, has a bunch of anxiety, and tries his hand at strategy with varying degrees of success.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra long chapter for extra long wait? I didn’t want to break this up into two because I hadn’t featured enough with Lord Arum and I wanted to treat y'all.
> 
> It occurs to me...I should let yall know that this is not a ‘scalie’ fic. Scalie is in quotations because I’m not sure that’s the correct terminology, but I’m working off the assumption that a scalie is a furry but for..you know, lizards and things with scales. Not kink shaming, just don’t want anyone to get invested for the wrong reasons!
> 
> ALSO I apologize for my sense of humor.

 

It was quick work to fix Rilla’s door. The handy woman had many tools of her own design that made the job a smooth process.

Sir Damien thought that he seemed to gravitate toward people with a mind for ingenuity, and a talent for craft. Except..Lord Arum wasn’t a person...

The train of thought didn’t feel appropriate though, and it only served as a reminder that these were some of his final moments with those he held so dear.

Rilla noticed his sudden frown. “Oh, Damien; I was so startled this morning that I forgot to ask, but did you find the creature you were looking for? How did it go?”

Politely, Sir Angelo suddenly found the drapes very interesting.

Damien coughed, nearly dropping the tool he was working with to reattach the hinge to the door as it lay on the floor. “No, no no no, nearly forgot! Ha- ha!”

At the sight of Rilla’s raised eyebrows, he cleared his throat and tried to bring his voice down to a normal octave (nearly succeeding for his valiant effort). “I had, um, heard you were safe and I was over come with..I wanted to know you were alright.”

Instantly Rilla’s face softened. “Oh...thank you, Damien.”

Damien ignored the slight flush to his cheeks. “Just..doing my knightly duty.”

She smirked at him, allowing him the lie. “Uh huh. Well, just think of all the monsters you’ll slay when I’m gone. You might even break that tie with Sir Angelo!”

“ _Rilla_ ~!” Sir Angelo and Sir Damien cried in unison, much to Rilla’s amusement. She laughed good naturedly at their aghast expressions.

He tried to hide it, but Damien was struck deeply by the realization that his tie with Sir Angelo would no longer bond them. “It will go to the better man,” He mumbled to himself before he realized he had spoken.

“What was that?” Sir Angelo asked, interrupting his rant about the importance of rivalry for maintaining male vigor.

“Nothing! Nothing, not a thing! Let us get this door up.”

“Ah ha, yes, I will hold the door aloft, you will attach it?”

Damien nodded, and Rilla refrained from teasing them any more while they resituated her door. Sir Angelo was only overzealous once (and he fervently promised he would patch the hole in the roof right away) and the door was first put on backwards, but it was easily righted and Rilla only looked the slightest bit harried as the roof was fixed and the boys were shooed away.

“Before we go,” Sir Angelo spoke up, pulling something out of a pouch on his side. “I never got the chance to give this to Rilla, for the beast’s clever trick. Do you want to give it to her now?”

Instantly, Damien recognized what Sir Angelo brandished at him; the poem for Rilla, meant to be given to her in the event of his death.

“HA!” Damien’s voice cracked as he snatched the paper from Angelo and crumpled it quickly, stuffing it into his armor. “No that won’t be necessary!”

Rilla’s curiosity was peaked. “What is it?”

His heart thundered at the thought of being found out. There was a _reason_ he wanted to be dead before she read it.

“Just, ahem, just a love letter. A final poem, for you, because we were engaged, you know, for if I died, I wanted words for, to soothe, erm, um...”

“Would it not stand the test of time?” Sir Angelo asked, watching his friend in confusion.

“OH NO, no no, wouldn’t make sense now that I’m alive, would it? Hahaha,,,,nothing happened hahah,,,,I’m definitely not panicking right now!” Sir Damien’s fake grin was so big his cheeks hurt, but he didn’t think he could drop it. He quickly started weighing the pros and cons of just running away (would save him the embarrassment, yes; awkward and alarming, also yes).

Incorrectly interpreting Damien’s hesitation as a result of their postponed betrothal, Rilla took pity on them. “That’s plenty, boys. Thank you so much for coming, and making sure I had shelter for the night.”

Sir Angelo didn’t look like he appreciated being dismissed before he had fully understood what was happening, but any protest was quelled at the kiss she placed on his cheek, before doing the same to Damien.

She shooed them away, insisting that they get back to the main part of the city before the sun fully set and they dutifully obeyed, departing along the road under her watchful eye.

In the end, her timing was apt. By the time they made it back to the barracks, the torches through the citadel were all lit. Sir Damien chucked the letter into one as casually as he could (which was not very casual at all, but thankfully Sir Angelo was preoccupied with the tale of the Hellish Hill, featuring Sir Caroline). Down in the knight’s sleeping quarters, Sir Angelo didn’t linger. He swapped out some of his armor and weapons to prepare himself for guard duty, leaving quickly as to not be late.

Sir Damien wished him a successful evening of protecting the Queen, and sat down on his cot.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, he mulled over all that had happened that day. He was exhausted, but didn’t think sleep was likely. The emotional toll of the past 24 hours had rung him dry. When he laid down, his mind swirled with thoughts of Lord Arum. Despite his emotional preoccupation with the loss of Rilla and the uncertainty he felt at the exchange of everything he was comfortable with, he felt a deep, quiet sense of adventure. There was a twinge of excitement; he had never been free before. He had always known it would be his duty to serve the queen until his final day. It had been his parents wish before their death, and it was of course the greatest honor in the Second Citadel. He had once thought it insane for someone to not aspire to such heights.

But now...that wasn’t his path anymore.

He closed his eyes, allowing himself to indulge in the fantasy of what his freedom could bring.

\--

To his surprise, Damien opened his eyes to daylight. He blinked idly at the sun that spilled through the curtains onto the far wall of the barracks. He hadn’t expected sleep to come at all, let alone as quickly as it did.

There was a quiet bustling of the city that spoke of markets just open for the day.

Damien dressed, feeling rested and resolute. He donned his armor and went out to shop.

In the markets, Damien bought food and provisions for the first week, and several books on foraging and native edible plants. He browsed through maps, hoping to find something that spanned the land past the Citadel, but he had no luck. He would have to rely on his knowledge of the land he gained while fighting monsters for the Queen.

Maybe someday he could make a map like these.

Damien smiled at the thought.

He busied himself until nightfall, checking and double checking all of his supplies out of anxiety and a distinct lack of anything else to do. He knew he would not be welcome back in the city after today, and he wouldn’t let himself return. This path he was walking was taking him far away from the Citadel, and everything he once knew.

Ironically, as he processed this he was walking directly to the heart of the Citadel. Specifically, to the Queen’s tower.

Damien’s heartbeat picked up, some of the confidence he had felt that morning slipping away as he approached. The tower was huge, the tallest in the whole of the Second Citadel. As his eyes fell upon the darkened window of the Queen’s chambers, he thought for the first time of how Lord Arum must have looked scaling the building. How..strong he must have been, to climb so high and yet put up such a valiant fight.

Damien felt his cheeks heat in a blush, and he didn’t like the implications of that. He doubled down on his pace toward the entrance, nodding at the guards who allowed him in without a second thought.

He released the breath he didn’t realize he was holding as he crossed the threshold. He had, in a way, been hoping to be stopped. If they didn’t let him in, then he wouldn’t be able to complete this morally complex task, and the choice to remain in the Citadel would be made for him. Freeing him of responsibility.

Still, he had to admit..this was much more exciting.

He nodded some more as he passed familiar faces, trying to remember how to walk like a normal human. Did he always swing his arms this much? Oh boy, was this always how he held his head? He gave a nervous smile to the final guard stationed at the stairs, and quickly ducked through the doors and away from all of the possible witnesses.

Once in the stairway, darkened except the many torches lining the wall, Damien felt marginally better. His heart still beat a frantic staccato in his chest, but at least there was no longer anyone around to give him the funny kinds of looks that increased his conspicuousness tenfold.

He took a deep breath before climbing up the stairs, using all the stealth he could muster.

It felt very strange to be sneaking around in a place where he had been welcome for so many years, yet it was exhilarating. He slipped into the shadows to avoid the servants and other knights, not thinking it wise to be overly seen.

In truth, Damien had no idea how attached to this item the Queen would be. There was no guarantee of when, or even if, she would notice it’s absence. Saints above, if she ever did, he hoped he would be far, far away from the Citadel. With any luck, no one would put together that he was behind the thievery. It would break his heart to know the whole of the Second Citadel was aware of his betrayal. Hurting the Queen would be painful enough.

Although, all of this hinged on his ability to enter her chambers, undisturbed, locate the box and the stone, and leave without being caught.

Damien’s anxieties were interrupted by voices coming from around the stairwell. He slowed, rounding the corner and creeping closer to the door to listen. He realized it was the war room and for a moment thanked all the stars in the sky for his luck; the Queen was occupied in the war room, meaning all he would have to do is get Sir Angelo away from the door for just the right amount of time.

Damien pressed himself against the wall nearest the slightly opened door, listening closely to what was being said. He couldn’t make out clear words, but he heard the Queen speaking with Sir Caroline and..Sir Marcus! Saints above, what luck!

Sir Marcus was tremendously afraid of fire, ever since childhood when his sisters took several careful years to convince him that fire was the literal manifestation of daemons. Their pranks grew more and more elaborate, until the entire Citadel had heard the stories of expertly crafted ‘fire puppets’ and a wickedly used echoing hallway. It was no wonder his sisters were now comfortable employed as the Queen’s war leader and head of psychological interrogation respectively. Their efforts on their brother was so long lasting, it took several seasons of knighthood before the Queen was able to stop him from putting out the torches in the towers where he was stationed.

At the sight of an uncontrolled fire, Sir Marcus would charge at it with his sword in an attempt to slay whatever daemon was held within. This left the responsibility of actually putting the fire out to anyone else the in vicinity, and with the practical Sir Caroline around, her quick thinking would make sure the fire didn’t spread to cause any damage. The stones around would likely be unharmed, but perhaps he could catch the door on fire?

Damien glanced around, noticing a particularly hideous tapestry, made by the Queen’s mother at the age of 5. A much better target.

Damien removed a torch from the wall as quickly as he could without making too much noise, and lit the edge of the tapestry. What appeared to be a misshapen eagle, or perhaps it was a frog, caught instantly. He gingerly tugged at the handle of the war room door, enough to catch the breeze from the open window and with any luck pull it open enough for the fire light to attract Sir Marcus’ attention. Then he took off up the stairs, quietly rushing up to where Sir Angelo would be guarding the Queen’s chambers.

Luckily, their rivalry had given Damien intimate knowledge of Sir Angelo’s weaknesses; Helping others, and increasingly, Sir Caroline herself.

“Are you proud of me, Lord Arum?” He asked the stones around him, “For acting as you would, with cunning, and strategy?”

When he finally rounded the stairs where Sir Angelo was stationed, he stood up straighter to address his friend with mock urgency.

Sir Angelo started at the sudden appearance of anyone at the late hour in one of the highest rooms in the tower.

“Sir Damien, whatever are you doing here?”

“Sir Caroline has requested your presence in the war room. It sounded urgent,” He lied. Thankfully, his nervousness at dishonesty was interpreted as worry.

“Oh my! I will come to her aid immediately! Sir Damien, will you protect these chambers in my absence?”

Damien nodded, “Of course, friend.”

Perfect.

And Sir Angelo was off, with a declaration to assist Sir Caroline. The tight breath Damien had been holding in his chest released, and as soon as Sir Angelo’s footfalls were echoing down the corridor he flung open the door to the Queen’s private chambers.

His heart pounded at the thrill of risking everything, yet things were falling into place so perfectly. Was this meant to be?

He searched around her bed, checking inside her closet and gawking at the finery. Damien nearly jumped out of his skin at the roar of “FIIIIIRREEEEE” that came from the war room.

Finally, he found it. A red mahogany box in the chest at the foot of her bed. He wasted no time in opening it, nearly ripping the locking mechanism in his haste. There was a small scratch on the ornate silver metal, but perhaps it would go unnoticed. Again, Damien’s breath caught as his eyes fell upon a smooth, blue stone. It was beautiful, swirled with colors of blue ranging from a hue so soft it was almost white all the way to the rich blue of the midnight sky. He picked it up, inspecting its size. It seemed to hum against his skin, not feeling cool as he had expected but warm, almost comforting. Damien tucked it into his pocket, closing the box and the chest and running out of the room, pulling the door closed behind himself. He debated on rushing down the stairs, on the pretense of helping, but before he could decide, Sir Angelo was rushing back up the stairs.

His cheeks were flushed, a jaunty perk to his step and a grin on his face. “Sir Caroline denied requesting my help, but I am glad you instructed me to assist. There was a great fire! And with my strong muscles I was able to rip the tapestry from the wall while Sir Caroline covered it with the war room curtains. She quite wise, you know. Very sharp of mine. The Queen is safe, my good friend. I thank you for protecting these chambers in my stead. Is all well here?”

Damien fought to keep his face straight as he replied. “All is well, my friend. I must be off, however.”

Sir Angelo nodded, and before Damien could stop himself and pulled the other knight into a tight hug.

“Um...Sir Damien?”

“Farewell, Sir Angelo. I thank you, for all you have done.”

Sir Angelo awkwardly patted him on the shoulder as Damien released him. “Ah, yes well, of course, Sir Damien. Whatever are best rivals for?”

He nodded, fighting the sorrow that ate at his insides. “Indeed...indeed. Good luck on your watch, this night.”

The look of confusion didn’t leave his friends face, but Sir Angelo bid him good evening, and Damien was gone.

He sped down the stairs of the tower, heading out of the city, out of the Citadel.

As he ran away from all that he had known, he did not weep. He couldn’t, for he knew that the pain of his leaving would fade, unmarred by the knowledge of his deeds. It was a mercy he didn’t deserve, but could not deny himself.

Finally reaching the tree where he had waited for his..for Lord Arum, Damien took in the majesty of the oldest willow in the forest. Nourished by the nearby brook, the tree had grown taller than some of the city towers, with the area beneath it’s branches a worthy pavilion. He stepped through the vines, walking unhurriedly around the roots toward the trunk of the tree.

Damien traced his fingers along the shallow wounds he inflicted in the tree the day before, and the brevity of his life struck him. He had been attacking the trunk with all he had, yet he had hardly caused damage. Already, sap had begun to seep out and close the wound. Within a few short years, his marks would fade away forever and no one would ever know. Would he still be alive? Surely, his own life would extend but just a fraction of the life of this tree. All of the confusion, all of the tumult he was facing wouldn’t matter much. The impression he left on this earth wouldn’t be like those of the Saints; there would be no stories of his courage or songs of his betrayal. Sir Damien would fade to Damien, and when he died, only his poetry would remain.

These thoughts didn’t weigh on his heart like they might have once before, quite the opposite. They emboldened his sense of freedom, filling his chest with calm.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered, palm flat against one gouge of the tree.

Damien went to the brook, cleaning his hands free of the sap. When they were dry, he sat by the water, staring up at all the stars. “Saint Damien above, I know I am no longer a knight of the crown, but I have been speaking to you for guidance for so long I do not think I can stop now. I still ask you, let your tranquility flow through me. Guide me on this journey, so that I may still live with a noble heart. Help me to remain unchanged by these woods, filled as they are with all manner of beast.

“And...I ask you...impart your wisdom onto me as I meet Lord Arum again tomorrow. This..this attraction, that causes my heart to pound at just the thought of him. Protect me from myself if that is what is best. But if...but if it is not, if there is a way to join together...please give me wisdom so that I do not..say something foolish.”

Embarrassed even at his own prayer, Damien covered his flushed face with his hands. He breathed deeply, slowing his spiraling thoughts and thinking carefully.

“Perhaps...perhaps I am not finished emulating this lizards cunning.” As an idea blossomed, so did a smile on his lips. “Yes..yes I think that will be fitting.”

Damien returned to the trunk of the tree, arranging his things for his meeting with Lord Arum tomorrow. When he was finished, Damien read about the land and trees and animals, until his eyes failed to stay open.

And when he awoke, he continued his studies. Motionless and fasting, he welcomed his new life here in these woods. Preparing for when he next saw Lord Arum.

\--

It was just past sunset when he did appear. A gentle rustling came from the edge of the forest, and when Damien approached it, he found Lord Arum regarding him with a cocky smirk.

“I see you have returned, little honeysuckle. Does that mean you are satisfied I haven’t hurt your precious Rilla?”

Damien stepped closer, a rueful smile on his face. “It was quite a trick, Lord Arum. You were as clever as I gave you credit for, but you have made your first error; she is not ‘my’ Rilla any longer.”

There was a quick squint to his eyes, the only indication he was intrigued, before it was replaced with impatience. “Oh, did the delicate flower get his heart broken? Are you here to make me listen to your woes, or have you brought something of value?”

Wordlessly, Damien pulled out the pouch containing the stone and held it in his hands.

Lord Arum’s surprise was evident at their lack of banter, but his eyes shone with anticipation when they fell upon the satchel. He began to slither forward through the moonlight, but Damien held up a hand.

“Not so fast, friend lizard. My terms have changed.”

Lord Arum’s lips pulled back, showing all his glittering teeth as his tail thumped dangerously against the ground. “We had a deal, human. I don’t have to play these games with you; I could just as easily rip off your arms and take it for myself!”

Damien smiled, throwing the pouch on the ground in between them. “Go ahead. I have borrowed a page from your book; I have hidden the stone you desire. The weight in that satchel is nothing more than a river rock.”

Lord Arum’s eyes blazed with fury. “Do you have _any_ idea the forces you’re messing with?”

Damien shrugged a shoulder casually. “Not at all. Perhaps if you told me?”

The beast glared, jutting out his chin. “Fine,” he spat. “What are these new terms?”

Damien fought to keep his composure. This had been going exactly as he had planned, but the true test would come now.

“Same as before, but I want just one thing more.”

Lord Arum’s tail thumped against the ground again, and he took a step toward Damien. “I am losing my patience, human.”

Damien took a breath.

“A kiss.”

Lord Arum halted. More than halted; his entire body jerked as though an unknown force had just punched him squarely in the stomach.

“A what?” He wheezed, looking less like a towering monster and more like a disgruntled caricature.

“A kiss,” Damien repeated. A kiss would tell him..what these feelings were. It would be all he needed to know.

“What in, I don’t, how would, I…” Lord Arum struggled to find words before trailing off and falling silent, pressing a claw to his temple.

“I’ve gone insane,” he mumbled. “That must be it. To deal with humans in such a way...I have lost it.”

A little disheartened by the way this response, Damien moved to pick up the discarded satchel and began to fiddle with it.

“Do you...agree to my terms?”

Lord Arum finally looked at him, his expression still open as he hadn’t quite recovered from the shock. They stood in silence, staring at one another for some time. After a while, Lord Arum’s eyes took on a calculating look that made Damien’s throat go a bit dry.

Lord Arum looked upwards, his gaze fixing on the three quarter moon.

“Is there...room for negotiations?” He asked, without turning away from the sky.

Damien swallowed thickly. “Um...sure.”

Lord Arum sighed, as though resigning himself to some unpleasant task. “One week.”

“P...pardon?”

The beast turned it’s eyes on him, looking much like his old self again. “Travel with me for one week. If, by the night of the seventh day you still desire this...kiss, I will concede.”

Damien thought it over quickly. He didn’t really have any other plans besides pursuing Lord Arum and wallowing in his banishment a little.

“Where would we be traveling?”

“To a special part of the forest, three days walk from here. Then to a river, another three days walk.”

Damien took in a shaky breath. “That..that would be agreeable, to me.”

He walked up to the beast, who eyed him wearily, as if he were concerned Damien was going to try some other form of bodily contact. Instead, he showed surprise once more when Damien handed him the satchel.

“Why are you handing me a river rock?”

Damien’s smile returned, evidently extremely pleased with himself. “I lied.”

Lord Arum delicately untied the cord holding it closed and removed the beautiful blue stone. He blinked at it for so long that Damien’s smile fell.

“Are you alright? Was this the right stone?” His stomach dropped at the thought, immediately calculating how fast he could pull out his bow in a defensive move.

“You…” Lord Arum finally said, “You have played a very cruel trick on me.”

Damien frowned, “Cruel? I..I had not meant to be cruel to you, Lord Arum. I do apologize if-”

Lord Arum cut him off, looking into the sky again. “Of all the sappy, over dramatic, prattling human’s...why did it have to be this one?”

His clawed fist curled around the stone, shoving it back into the satchel and storing it away. He turned and began walking into the forest, muttering unhappily under his breath.

“Wait!” Damien shouted, scrambling to grab his things and chase after the captivating monster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Remember to review and tell me what's working, and what isn't. And thank you for your patience; right after my exams I had a bacterial morphology paper due and..yeah that took me a while.  
> There will be one or two chapters after this, maybe an epilogue. Unfortunately, because I have quite a bit to put into the ending, it will probably take a little while. Maybe another two weeks? We'll see how it goes. I do have another round of exams in a week or two (hurray for summer term..) and we have a guest staying with us next week.  
> Anyway. Thanks again for all the support!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six days of travel, and Arum comes clean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe I got a little excited. This is where I took many, many liberties about this world and made up my own shit. I hope it’s entertaining.

 “So...how long have you been the lord of the swamp?”

Damien grinned nervously at the agitated beast he had been traveling with in a tense quiet for almost two days. Thus far, his attempts at conversation had been thoroughly rebuffed by his companion. Lord Arum had only spoken to direct him (‘ _If you insist on shelter you spoiled human, you may fashion one from those leaves. Not those leaves, THOSE leaves!”_ ), or to save him from blundering into something at the last moment (“ _That plant in front of you is fireweed. You’d best avoid it if you want to keep from singeing your petals, honeysuckle”_ ). Although the latter seemed to give the beast some pleasure, it did nothing to que pleasant conversation between the two of them.

Damien’s attempts to break the quiet by reciting some of his newest poetry had been rewarded quickly with a sudden swipe at his ankles that landed him flat on his back, and had felt distinctly like a tail. While Damien liked the tiny smirk that pulled at the other’s lips, his rear wasn’t appreciative of the treatment and he hadn’t tried again.

Still, even in the quiet, Damien felt such a pull toward the man.

Er, the creature. Yes, the...creature. How could it be that he kept stumbling over that in his mind? Lord Arum looked far from human, with all of those glittering teeth, his lovely green scales, down to the way he held his four strong arms. Not to mention the claws.

Yes..definitely not human. And yet, he still thought of him as... a _man_.

Lord Arum glared at him, but he seemed to sigh.

“I am no longer Lord of anything.”

Damien’s heart leapt at the response, but as soon as the words registered his brows pulled into a frown. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Does this look like a swamp to you?” Arum asked, gesturing to the thick woods around them. “I have left my home, and after this journey I will not be returning. I am...just Arum, now.”

“Oh, dear.” Damien’s voice softened as his mind flooded with guilt at the thought of unhoming the creature.

As though he could read his thoughts, Arum scowled deeply again. “Don’t flatter yourself with guilt. It was time for something new, anyway. Not that it matters, but I had been ruling the swamp for nearly half a century.”

Damien blinked. “A half a century? Saints above, aren’t you leaving your life behind? Are you not worried for the chaos your absence would bring?”

Arum quirked an eyebrow (as much as a lizard can), looking down at Damien as they walked. “Not particularly. The realm of monsters is much more efficient than the world of humans. There will be a small battle, maybe two, before the next Lord is chosen. Pneumatum, the salamander had her eye on it, however. I doubt many would challenge her.”

“A salamander? Hmm..” Damien mulled this over, wondering at the world of monsters he knew so little about, at least for having made a living from their demise. “Is she..large?”

“Ha! She is fearsome, but she is a tiny thing. Couldn’t be much bigger than you.”

The taunt took a moment to register fully, and Damien protested. “I am nearly to your shoulder!”

“With or without the boots?”

At Damien’s furious sputtering, the creature laughed his husky chuckle, and Damien found himself smiling at the sight.

“It is good to see your spirits back, friend lizard, even if it is at my expense.”

Arum sobered somewhat at this, but his walls didn’t completely return. “Taunting you has become a preferred pastime, as long as I must suffer your company.”

Damien paused to bow playfully. “You do me such a kindness, dear friend.”

Arum opened his mouth to retort, but froze suddenly, his eyes narrowing into the forest ahead of them. Damien squinted as well, although the forest looked just as it had through their entire trip. Before Damien had the chance to ask what had disturbed his companion, two of Arum’s four hands were grabbing him and moving dizzyingly fast. When they stopped and his vision came back into focus, Damien realized he was in a tree, so high up he felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. His breath hitched in fear and a third hand clamped around his mouth. Damien closed his eyes, trying to ground himself. As his mind cleared, he began to hear footsteps from below. He looked down again, spotting a basilisk. The little beast itself was hard to see, although the trail of death it left was clear. As it made its way along the forest floor, everything it touched began to wither and brown.

Damien sighed through his nose and closed his eyes again.

“That creature down there is as bad as you are,” Arum whispered into his ear.

Confused, Damien made to ask what Arum meant, but found he couldn’t quite get words out at this height.

“I had him banished from the swamp because no one could get anything done, the way he prattles on. We’d be stuck here all day if he caught me.”

Damien breathed out a laugh at Arum’s deflection leaning his head back to wait out the basilisk’s passage.

He was inclined to make a quip about protectiveness, but it was then that it occurred to Damien exactly what he was leaning back on, what he was being pressed tightly into.

Or rather, who.

Damien felt his cheeks heat as the warmth from the creature registered to him. He was flat against the underbelly of his companion.

Not seeming to notice the awkwardness of the situation, Arum whispered to him again. “If I let go of your mouth, do you promise not to do something foolish?”

Damien nodded, and the hand was withdrawn. His face felt flushed and his hands were clammy, but they were moving again and it was so disorienting that he had to jam his eyes shut once again and focus solely on not thrashing in the creature’s arms.

Thankfully, they didn’t travel like that for long and soon Damien was placed feet first on the ground once again.

Immediately, he dropped to his knees and let his forehead press into the dirt, threading his fingers through the sweet, sweet grass..

“Oh, saints above!”

Arum scoffed. “Is the brave knight afraid of heights?”

Damien looked up at Arum, his four arms crossed in two sets and a smug look on his face. Damien knew just the thing to wipe it off his face. “You know, Arum, your skin is quite warm for a cold blooded creature.”

Arum’s smirk fell instantly and his eyes widened. Damien grinned, hoping for more banter but instead he watched as the scales around Arum’s face gained a bit of an orange hue. Was he..blushing?

“I didn’t know you could blush, friend lizard! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” He asked.

Arum turned on his heel and began walking  quickly away, thumping his tail against the ground angrily and muttering something that sounded a lot like a curse against humanity. Damien ran after him, but this time he didn’t find their quiet uncomfortable.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, after Damien had packed up his makeshift camp (insert snide comment by Arum here), the pair didn’t have far to travel. After only an hour of walking, they came to what appeared to be a wall of trees.

It didn’t span far, but what did was impressive. From where he stood, Damien could see what appeared to be seven tremendous *cypress trees (he could recall their identification, as his near miss with fire-weed had motivated his study of plant life).

“By the Gods, what is this?” Damien whispered. As they approached and he had a better view, Damien observed that the trees curved as a circle rather than the straight wall he had thought they were. They were bigger than any other cypress trees he had ever seen, and he couldn’t remember having passed any before as they traversed the woods. He moved closer to the trees but refrained from touching them. They were clearly unnatural, and Arum had already spent nearly three days scolding him for his ineptitude in the forest.

“This was the first thing I built when I came to my senses,” Arum said cryptically as he approached behind Damien.

“You made this?” He asked in surprise. Damien inspected the area around the trees, noting that nothing else seemed terribly magical about the area..

From one of his four sleeves, Arum pulled out a strange looking grey leaf. It looked small in Arum’s hand, but it was roughly the size of Damien’s forearm. He watched as Arum pushed it against the brush. To his astonishment, the seemingly impenetrable thicket of needled leaves curled away from the leaf. Impossibly, the branches slid away to make room on the bare bark for Arum to press the leaf against the tree.

When he did, the tree began to rearrange itself even further. A gap began to form, widening until it touched the two neighboring trees and there was a hole in the circle, it’s dimensions allowing for Arum’s comfortable passage. Damien stood anxiously by, caught between wonder and worry.

Arum stepped deeper into the circle of trees, then paused. He turned, frown set on his features.

“Are you coming?” He asked, impatience clear.

Damien breathed out a laugh. “Oh, yes! Of course.”

Arum didn’t look impressed but moved forward anyway, allowing for Damien’s passage behind him.

The first thing that Damien noticed was that it was unusually bright for such a small space surrounded by trees this tall. The area was a perfect circle, maybe twelve feet wide. He came and stood beside Arum, who had pulled a small sac from one of his pockets. Arum then approached the center of the circle, where there stood a tall, elaborate flower guarded by a fairy ring of mushrooms. Damien instantly recognized it as dragonsbane, although it wasn’t from his book; dragonsbane -particularly its roots- make a lethal poison when ingested. Because of this, it was outlawed in the Citadel. Damien had always thought this was a shame, as the plant itself was quite beautiful. It’s ornate, fire red petals arranged themselves to the light in the shape of a dragon’s head. Specialized leaves jutted up at the back like horns, modified petals in the front hung down beside the pistil like many fearsome teeth. The stamen of the flower were an unusual grey color, curling up like smoke around the ‘mouth’ of the flower. On his walks with Rilla, they had located several of the plants growing deep in the forest. She had taken the time to teach him about the plant as she collected the nectar (“A crucial part of the antidote,” she’d told him), and he had listened in quiet admiration.

As Damien watched Arum slide his hand into the satchel and pull the plant up, roots and all, and carry it safely back, Damien wondered if _good with botany_ was part of his ‘type’.

Arum frowned at him. “Why are you being strange, human?”

Damien cleared his throat, feeling put on the spot. “I am not! I am merely...observing!”

The lizard didn’t quite look convinced, but he sealed the bag with a clean white string and tucked the satchel away nevertheless. Arum breathed a sigh. “I suppose I should not be ungrateful that you have refrained from pestering me with questions.”

He swallowed. “I do. Have questions, that is. Yet, you do not seem to enjoy answering them. It seems that you prefer to tell me in your own time.”

Arum’s eyes narrowed in suspicion at this.

“What is this place?” Damien asked, voice gentle. “What purpose does it serve?”

His companion turned his chin, eyes taking on the distant quality they always did when he was considering something.

“Later,” He said, and walked out between the trees. 

Damien hurried after Arum, not wanting to get stuck in the enclosure. The smile on his lips was a little wan, as the rebuff was not unexpected but still unpleasant. At least it gave him some time to think.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Damien looked curiously at Arum as they reached the stream. The sound of water trickling over rocks grew to a soothing babble as Arum found a comfortable place to sit on the mossy ground.

Damien looked dubiously at the beautiful, clear water as he came to rest beside Arum. “Is this the, ah, _river_? The one on the sixth day?”

Even though it was so small, Damien hoped so. While his feet were more adjusted to the walking than they had been in the first few days, they were tired and a bit sore. It would be a welcome reprieve to be done for the day.

Arum nodded. “Yes, this is the most shallow section. It is deceptively deep near the middle, and we’re near the home of the white eels, but this will serve our purpose.”

“The white eels?”

“They won’t harm you if your intentions are pure.”

This was all Arum said on the matter.

Damien observed as Arum set about making a small fire. Damien’s offered help was met with silence, and so he chose to take the time to rest, and watch. Arum’s eyes were distant with thought as he sprinkled something over the sticks and bark he had gathered, muttering quietly until blue flames sprouted. They grew tall quickly, licking up the sides of the wood as if they were savoring a meal.

Damien’s eyes grew wide, as he had never seen magic before, but he found he couldn’t voice any of the many questions that were swirling through his mind. The seriousness of Arum, his deliberate, careful movements felt ominous. 

When Arum stood and walked into the woods without a backward glance, watched him go.

 

* * *

 

It was hours past nightfall when Arum returned from the forest. He didn’t greet Damien, who was roused out of a sleep he didn’t realized he’d fallen into by Arum’s return, but went to his cloak and removed the satchel and sack containing the blue stone and the dragonsbane. He took out a few more things Damien couldn’t make out in the low light, and set them on a large rock near his side. Finally, Arum lowered himself to the ground by the fire, crossing his legs and drawing his tail up near the side of his body. Two of his four hands rested on his knees, the other two lay clasped together in his lap.

“Tonight is..going to be strange. You have traveled with me these six days, and before that, you…” Arum trailed off, closing his eyes. He sighed heavily before looking at Damien once again. “You...deserve to know.”

Damien swallowed thickly, nodding slightly to prompt the lizard. He was afraid to speak, afraid it might interrupt what Arum was about to say.

“Would you like to know how I came to be the lord of the swamp? Why you see something..human in my eyes?”

Damien waited a breath, wanting to be sure he needed to answer.

“Yes,” he said emphatically. “More than you know.”

Arum nodded once, and then found he couldn’t keep his eyes on the man before him. He looked away and began.

“Before I was Lord Arum...I was once a knight like you.”

Damien blinked in surprise. He opened his mouth, then promptly closed it and did his damndest to wait for Arum to continue.

“It was at the birth of the Second Citadel. I lived through the days of your precious Saints. I, myself, once aspired to be like them. To be the pride of my parents, who died too young, building the Citadel. For much of my life, I succeeded. But I carried a mortal sin within me.”

When Arum didn’t continue for several long moments, lost in a pain that had ached for decades, Damien found a whisper tumbling from his own lips. “What was it?”

“Love.”

When the monster met his eyes, there was such a spark of life, of passion, that the breath was stolen from Damien’s lungs.

“Foolishly, I had loved one of my fellow men. Since we were boys, really. And because he returned my affections, it was truly only a matter of time until we would be found. He was named as you were, after one of the Saints. Sir Aaron and I foolishly thought we were impervious to the law, and believed our secret safe. He had heart but he..he was not the most impressive knight the Citadel had to offer.”

Arum’s eyes flashed dangerously with anger as he spoke. “In a disgustingly political move, I was sent away on a fool’s errand meant to kill me. When I survived and returned, I was awarded a hero’s welcome and the news that Sir Aaron had been tried and executed in my absence.”

Damien’s breath caught in a gasp. “No...surely, the crown-”

“Damn the crown!” Arum shouted, and the fire cracked loudly in response to his fury. Arum closed his eyes, collecting himself. When he opened them, his temper was muted but disgust evident.

“It was a different time in many ways. There are secrets that history had not the stomach to record.” Arum continued, ignoring Damien’s frown. “Neither of us had known our proclivities were an open secret among the ranks. I was young, and strong. Aaron was kind of heart, and soft. The king saw my talents, but felt he couldn’t harness a warrior of my..persuasion without risking shame.” There was a soft, malicious chuckle from Arum. “His plan to further the greatness of his kingdom by harnessing my genius failed, spectacularly.”

“What did you do?” Damien asked, rapt with attention.

The beast shrugged a shoulder. “I was a broken man. With my future slaughtered, I renounced my knighthood. I drank myself blind every night for weeks, raging about the town until I was thrown into the woods to sober. It was there that I became what you see before you.

“A woman found me, drunk and weeping. Had I known better…” Arum sighed once more, running a clawed hand tiredly over his face. “She offered to end my suffering. I didn’t know what she was, and I accepted. I had no idea what it would cost me.”

Arum stared sadly into the fire for a pregnant pause. Damien watched the fire play across his form, flickering shadow and light against those shining green scales almost hypnotically, unable to speak.

“She was a norn. Do you know what that is, little honeysuckle?”

Damien shook his head, unable to tell if that was taunting or..affection.

Arum looked to the sky, at the wealth of stars. “Norns are ancient, powerful beings who can shift the destiny of men, and Saints. Such matters of men are trivial to them, but my pain was so great that she...found me. She looked into my being and found my humanity to be the source of my misery, so she took it in the form of my heart.”

“I...I don’t understand,” Damien found himself saying.

Arum reached over to the rock, digging his hand inside the sack Damien had given him at the start of their journey. He moved gracefully over to Damien, taking one of his hands and gently opening his fingers. Arum placed the shimmering stone in Damien’s palm, closing his hands around Damien’s warm fist. When Arum looked into his eyes, the stone gave a single pulse that caused him to jerk in surprise. Arum held his hands still, until he withdrew with the rock.

“My heart hasn’t beat since it was taken from me. But you...it beats for you, foolish, kind human.” Arum returned to his seat, leaving Damien in a stunned silence. He continued. “When my heart was taken from me and turned to stone, I was filled with rage. I stole and imbibed and destroyed to ease my suffering, vowing revenge on the Norn who had changed me. The more time passed with my heart hardened, the more I changed. All things in this world contain multitudes. Inside each of us is good, and bad. Tranquility, and monstrosity. Scales came first...things were lost, and others gained until I became what you now see. I didn’t know that my pain was far from unique, my situation far from special. In the end, I was faced with no choice but to accept this new life, and the hunt for my humanity became less of a quest and more of a fight for power.

“As the people of the Citadel had bested me, I swore to never be at their mercy again. I sought knowledge and control, I built a network of information. Over time I collected pieces here and there of the norn’s magic. _Roots of dragonsbane, grown from one’s own blood_ ; _a swallow from the most fertile river,_ blah, blah....eventually I had all I needed.”

“But you..you didn’t change back.”

“It was easier to cause harm to the Citadel as a monster. You’d never guess the productivity of four arms.”

Damien frowned at the smirking lizard. “But you have decided...why now?”

The humor fell from Arum’s face, and he shook his head. “Surely you aren’t blind to my reasoning.”

Damien swallowed hard, heart thudding. “Then how, um, how did the queen come to have your heart?”

Arum’s expression changed to something inscrutable before he leaned back and decided to continue. “It was a precaution I took. I kept my heart close for some time, before I realized it’s weakness.”

“Weakness?”

Arum chuckled. “When you live among beasts, you learn to guard your treasure. But when those around you see what you hold close, they see leverage. To keep it safe, I waited until the queen at of the time gave birth. I arranged for it to be sent as a gift to the new child, signed from a far off diplomat that may have..lost track of his Lord’s original gift while traveling through my swamp. Once every decade or so I travel to the heart of the Citadel to make sure it is still safe. The longer we were apart, the weaker our connection became. It was safe as a quiet, mysterious heirloom of the royal family.”

They fell quiet together, as Arum stared down at the stone in his hand. Damien looked away, down the river to where the light was creeping up over the hills. He watched the sunrise slowly, shifting the palate of the sky from the endlessly dark black, to deep reds and warm purples and soft pinks. After some time had passed, Arum sighed softly and Damien turned back to him.

“This is not going to be pretty, honeysuckle. You may want to avert your eyes.”

Before Damien could ask just exactly what in the world that meant, three things happened very quickly.

He noticed Arum’s four hands were far more full than when he had looked away, holding the dragonsbane, two vials, and his heart. Damien recognized Rilla’s colorful seal, the bright red color denoting an antidote, cork absent.

Arum tossed the dragonsbane into his mouth, roots and all, chewing quickly before throwing back the contents of Rilla’s vile in one smooth go. He swallowed it down with the stone, and the final vile that Damien realized must be riverwater.

He sat, held in place by shock. He had never seen anyone willingly touch, let alone consume dragonsbane and for the first time ever, he felt a tendril of fear grip his heart that Rilla’s antidote had _better goddamn work_.

Arum closed his eyes, a soft smile on his lips. For that moment he was perfect, calm, and still. Then his body seemed to collapse into itself.

The big, muscular body of Arum crumpled to the ground. Four arms clutched his stomach and a cry of pain ripped its way across the quiet morning.

Damien was instantly at his side, reaching for his companion only to recoil in surprise when his hand fell upon frightfully hot scales. The scales beneath his palm were angry and pulsing. He looked to Arum’s face and watched in horror as the bones of Arum’s jaw broke and shrunk and reformed. The screams cut off sharply as his vocal chords changed, and there was a desperate grunt before Arum’s eyes fell closed.

The scales there were changing too, becoming brown and smoothing out into...skin. Movement caught his eye, and Damien looked down to where Arum’s second set of arms seemed to be burning away, becoming darker and darker until they were black and broke like ash before crumbling to dust. A glance told him that the tail was receding in much the same way and-

Saint’s above!

Damien averted his eyes from Arum’s nudity.

He let out a sharp breath when he looked back to Arum’s face. He had..ears, and eyebrows and a handsome, buttoney nose, and cheekbones and a sharp, strong jaw and a wealth of dreadlocked hair.

Damien cupped his cheek, and Arum’s eyes fluttered like those of someone struggling to cling to consciousness. Damien stared at those same, violet eyes, as they finally slipped closed, and stayed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cypress trees represent grief and mourning, looool.
> 
> So! I have no idea when I'll update again but let's hope that it's soon. Comments and kudos are very encouraging! The last chapter will be the final one, tell me what you've thought about it so far (:


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